


Forever

by Agent_Talis



Category: The Professionals
Genre: M/M, The Weekly Obbo Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-14
Updated: 2015-03-14
Packaged: 2018-03-17 21:32:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3544529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Agent_Talis/pseuds/Agent_Talis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I can’t hear much over the clanging under my feet and can’t think over the clamour of my brain. The stairway seems to last forever as each flight opened out onto a new one in monotonous, pulse-spiking agony. Fourth floor – seventh floor – ninth.<br/>On and on and on – time like tiny grains of sand escaping from the hourglass. Everything just… slipping away into the deepest night… forever."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forever

I can’t hear much over the clanging under my feet and can’t think over the clamour of my brain. The stairway seems to last forever as each flight opened out onto a new one in monotonous, pulse-spiking agony. Fourth floor – seventh floor – ninth.    

On and on and on – time like tiny grains of sand escaping from the hourglass. Everything just… slipping away into the deepest night… forever.

Something slipping away.

I don’t think I need to explain how numb the anger makes you when it burns and blazes and takes control. Because I’m not the one in control now, it is.

The anger and… I’d never admit it but – the fear.

The acidic, gut-wrenching fear.

How far could he have got with fully-grown whippet of a man – all wild curls and red fury in his bones? How far could he have dragged him with the barrel to his head, shouting obscenities down the stairs at us and laughing his stupid head off?

Further than I can believe. Further than I can handle.

The noise will give me away, I know. I should know better – I do know better. I’ve been trained in ways that jumped-up piece of shit could ever dream of being and I’ve killed more people than he has ever in his life. More people that he ever will.

Because I’m going to kill him. As soon as I reach the top of these stairs, James Nicholas David is a dead man.

And if he’s hurt my Ray…

I burst out into the sunlight – too bright for June – and raise my gun, finger white on the trigger. I nearly fire.

Then I see him, the stupid little fucker, holding Ray in front of him, grinning like the Devil himself. “Go ahead,” he challenges, his face alight with power – he’s drunk on it, as high as a kite. “Go ahead!” He shoves the gun into Ray’s temple, denting a white-yellow half-moon in his skin. My Ray. Mine.

There’s blood on his face – never one to obey any orders my Ray – he’s obviously resisted and been punished for it. But, David doesn’t care about that. He only cares about the here and now and the thrill he’s tasting.

James Nicholas David is a man who believes he can live forever.

He pulls Ray back, spooking the birds all around him enough that they back off. They don’t fly away. These are London birds after all. They’re used to strange people.

He grins at me and gestures with the weapon. “I could shoot you, you know. Then throw him off here.” My eyes narrow. “I don’t think anyone could survive nine floors, would they?”

“You let him go and you might live.” I’m not sure why my voice is so calm, but it is. But, I know that I won’t do anything that’ll jeopardise this moment. I won’t fire until I’m sure, or it’s too late to do anything else.  

One of the birds lets out a soft, uncertain _caw_ and flutters its wings. David has Ray right at the edge now, never taking his eyes off me. I give him a cold smile, usually enough to worry any sane man.

That’s the problem – right there. David is not sane, not sensible in any way. He’s a raving, craving addict, except it’s not heroin he’s shooting up with; its danger and power and blood and death.

Thinks he’s the fucking king of the world.

There’s no angel on his shoulder. Just two demons, urging him on.

And now he’s got my Angelfish, my mate… _my lover_ … in his grasp and on the list. And it’s a long list.

He grins at me again, “I’m invincible. You can’t touch me. No one can.” My only reply is to cock my gun and point it at his cheek. David’s not fazed at all.

The wind howls around us and matches the roaring in my head. I look to Ray, heart thudding out all the things I want to tell him, all the things I want that stupid, honourable, hot-headed little bastard to know.

His gaze slides to lock with mine – with jolt like freezing water. He winks. Twice.

 _Left side, two seconds_. Keeping my expression still is difficult, but I manage. And some of the lads believe we’re telepathic too.

Nothing to it, boys – it’s all just codes and prearranged instructions. I start the countdown in my head.

David doesn’t have a chance. Doyle jabs backwards, catching his captor in the solar plexus. The gun swings round to centre just behind Doyle’s ear and his finger jerks. The birds scatter with a deafening clatter of wings. But, Ray’s fast – very fast – and he’s already clear before the bullet exits the chamber. David’s not nearly as quick. My bullet shatters his ribcage and bursts his heart in three. David stumbles backwards, a keening moan dribbling from his lips and his fingers grasp for Ray. I fire again, not willing to let him have this final kill. The second bullet topples him off the edge of the building –

And for a moment, he hangs there, in perfect symmetry, crowned by fleeing black feathered bodies.

Then he falls without a sound.

I don’t think he’s hit the ground by the time I have Ray in my arms, yelling at him, nearly laughing my head off in relief. Ray clings to me – less for himself because he knows how close it was this time – more to steady my nerves and confirm that, yes, he’s alive and we’re alive and David’s dead and it was _him_ who went over and not my sunshine, my Angelfish, _my Ray_. He plants a kiss right on my lips and grins at me, all wonky edges and slanted features. There are sirens singing below us, so we pull away reluctantly and then assume our positions on that particular stage of denial. Voices clamour questions at us, some of the Squad explaining that David is dead on the ground with two bullet holes and disintegrated bones, but I ignore them and start to help Ray hobble down the stairs to where the ambulances are waiting to take one person to hospital and the other to the morgue.

I can’t help remembering his spread-eagled flight out and down and the last expression of James Nicholas David who knew he’d live forever.

Forever isn’t as long as you’d think.

But my forever, the only kind that really exists, will be safe in my arms tonight.

And tomorrow night.

And the night after.

And the night after that.

And for infinity forever after.

If only in our minds.

 

 http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/draycevixen/11524734/511409/511409_original.jpg

 

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the weekly obbo challenge - this is my first ever slash story, so please be gentle... =-)  
> Also, I apologize since I can't figure out how to add the picture - sorry!


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